


Hyperion to Eos

by LaPetiteReveuse



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Anastasia AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 22:15:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14388207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaPetiteReveuse/pseuds/LaPetiteReveuse
Summary: Alice, treasured daughter of Killian goes missing the night of her eight birthday and her papa is offering a sum to bring her back to him. A sum which Robin is after by auditioning lookalikes of the lost girl to present to Killian.Tilly, an orphan with no memory of who she is or where she is from seems to fit Robin's specifications and is willing to go along with it all, as long as she finds something better than her current living situation.





	1. i.

Raised on promises of everlasting safety and affection, Alice had been lured into a false sense of calm that would have left her unprepared for her reality. The day she had been born marked a great celebration throughout the Enchanted Forest but had also marked the day a great evil had awoken throughout the land. They took this to be an omen that she was to the light of the world that could have only have been given to them with the cost of also having an equal darkness to balance out the universe. They should have used the release of the wicked as an omen that Alice’s life would be paved with hardship until one finally destroyed the other.

Knowing of the evil’s affiliation with dark magic, they banished all associations with the practice form the land. Witches and warlocks alike from across the land who chose to practice anything other than benevolence and selflessness were cast out and forced to relocate to somewhere far from the Enchanted Forest. Something that proved rather difficult given that there were only a few realms with the capability to practice magic and even fewer who practised it so freely. An uprising of the downtrodden, banished from their own homelands rose from the ashes of their backgrounds and swore against those who had decided the rule. A selective circle ruling over all the Enchanted Forest, given the authority from their bloodlines and close friendships.

Alice, daughter of Killian Jones II, a duplicate of Killian I, husband to the Queen of the Enchanted Forest, though far separated from royalty was regarded as such. Held in high favour to those of the household who seemed to often forget that she didn’t actually reside at the palace itself but in a distant tower with her father.

Her ninth birthday was the be held at the great palace as were the rest of the birthdays for royalty. A day of great celebration which swore her a day she would never forget. It began at her home, being awoken by a poorly homemade breakfast by her father who tried to mask his terrible cooking skills with an astonishing amount of syrup atop the pancakes that now stuck together. She ate them with great happiness, claiming it tasted like ambrosia, which of course to her it did. Nothing could have tasted better to her that morning. Nothing could have smelled sweeter or looked more glorious.  
When her papa thrust an appalling gift into her hands, she was already so happy for her mood to be elevated any more. Yet, as she pulled back the paper to reveal a hand-carved chess set, she was driven to a state of euphoria that she felt could never be matched. Instinctively reaching for the white knight piece she runs her fingers along the shaping noting the engraving on the underside. She turns it to read it slowly and out loud.

‘From Hyperion to Eos,’ she says unhindered by the pronunciation of the names that had featured in the Greek myths her father had read to her many times as a child.

‘Oh Papa, they are extraordinary!’ she exclaims, leaping from her seat into his arms which only just move quick enough to catch her.

‘Quick, get dressed and we may have time for a game before we go to the Charmings’ to celebrate the rest of your birthday.

Alice, dressed in a new blue dress walked proudly into the grand ballroom at the Charmings’ palace on the arm of her father who could not have worn a prouder smile if he had tried to. She had never known many people well, all of the guests were friends of friends, distant family members, or those people who simply should have been at a royal birthday party. There were hardly any people she truly knew well.

Always on her best behaviour, her politeness was one of the things people noticed about her upon first meetings. Shaking their hand with a curtsy and a rehearsed greeting, everyone she met could not help but fall under her spell. Something about the graciousness of her voice, the softness of her tone or the way she appeared timid to everyone she met.

Once having been formally introduced to all who attended, the mingling could truly begin. Not with her included. But other people with one another who they recognised and wished to catch up on. Alice didn’t mind the slight and persistent of being on the outside, but her father being occupied also left her stood on the sidelines alone and trying to look included.

Groups of guests chatted amongst themselves as pairs waltzed to the live music being played at the rear of the hall. Though she was not fond of the lavishness of the whole thing, the music was enjoyable. Almost mesmerised she watched the fingers of the musicians move across their strings or atop the small holes in their instruments.

‘You’re Nooks kid, right?’ a voice asks, confident and loud over the music.

Alice turns to find a girl her age standing proudly in a green dress awaiting an answer. ‘I’m Alice.’

The girl nods smiling and then offer her hand graciously, ‘you know, tradition states that the birthday girl needs to dance at her birthday party.’

Alice looks to the hand and shakes her head, ‘I’m not very good at it,’ she states, her voice failing her almost. But this does not satisfy the girl, who grabs hold of Alice’s hand and pulls her with protest to the centre of the floor and holds her hand in position. Moving her feet back and forth prompting Alice to do the same. Alice shuffles her feet, bringing them barely an inch off the ground, back and forth. Not quite mastering the steps, she keeps her eyes trained on the other girl's feet and tries to copy the steps. But they’re backwards, and Alice can’t keep the beat.

‘You look at your feet and you’ll trip over them.’ The girl says, her smile on Alice’s face. ‘Just move in time, don’t worry about the steps.’

‘But what if I step on your foot?’ Alice asks, trying to ignore the conscious weight of her feet that she’d two-stepping in each direction so as to barely move them.

‘Then you step on my foot.’ The girl replies with such a carefree smile that it prompts one in return. She tries to take wider steps, clutching harder to the girl’s hand for balance. And as her strides get wider, more confident, her smile grows wider. Soon, she and the girl are giggling together as they step on one another’s feet over and over but caring very little.

‘You know, I think you’re getting the hand of this, Alice.’ The girl says her smile sounding in her voice.

‘Thank you,’ Alice replies a smile just a wide, but then pauses, her brow furrowed, ‘I don’t know your name.’

‘R--,’ she beings but she’d interrupted by the loud thud of the main doors slamming open, crashing against the walls. A thunderous boom vibrates across the room forcing it into silence. All chatter stops, all the music ceases and all attention is cast towards the entrance of the hall where stands two familiar figures that striker fear into all attendees. Even without knowing the pair, the chill in the room was enough to warn them of the inevitable commotion.

‘I fear my invitation got a little lost,’ the first woman laughs, walking into the room shadowed by the other woman. ‘But not to fear, I found my way.’

The girl Alice had been dancing with protectively keeps herself between Alice and the intruder, without knowing any reason she should other than instinct.

‘You shouldn’t be here, Gothel.’ Hook calls out across the hall, slowly making his way to meet the impostor. Though his face is clouded in an angry unrecognisable to Alice, Gothel seems unfazed by the confrontation.

‘Don’t worry, by sweet. I’m only here to give my gift to the birthday girl and then leave.’ She offers a small wicked smile to punctuate her words.

‘She wants nothing from you.’ Hook shouts with a bite to his words.

‘No? Well then, I suppose I’ll have to give you all my gift.’ The room waits on a breath, ‘a promise. The Enchanted Kingdom’s hierarchy is about to change. Those at the top will topple, into the dirt they push others into, and those at the bottom will rise.’

The room, frozen in their consideration of the idea, seems not to please Gothel with their reactions. She’d been expecting something with a little more terror and fear rather than the blank disbelief that current left them unfazed.

Raising her hands up to let her sleeves drop. Her hands, in a claw, and her smile to a point, she moves her fingers almost rhythmically. As timed as the dancing from before. But the air of the sinister surrounds it. All guests are unable to tear their attention away, least of all, Alice. Standing far away from the woman yet feeling like there was nothing separating the two of them. Two sides of the same coin. Same material but cast to remain opposites. It was mesmerising to watch as her fingers plucked away at the imaginary harp strings.

Soon, a rumble from deep within the ground’s concrete snapped everyone out of their trance, except Alice who was somehow still only focused on the creation of the rumbling rather than the pressing urgency of the rumbling itself. The ground split the two sides of the room apart within a second, those standing on the wrong place calling deep into the chasm that had been created and falling so far that even their screams could not be heard once they hit the bottom. If they ever did.

Sending the room into a mania, Gothel and her shadow stand stationary waiting for the panic to pass in order to have her meeting with the birthday girl, her desired audience, after all. But as she waits, and as the crowd dissipates it seems she’s left with only the inhabitants of the palace.

‘Come with me,’ the girl with Alice says, snapping her out of her trance and, with a tight grip on her hand leads her against the crowd to a different exit. Unsure of the witch’s intention, the girl knows that they are not in Alice’s favour. And, feeling a slight protectiveness over the girl she had only just met, she can’t let Alice fall into the clutches of evil. Alice gives little protest to being led away from the hall, too stunned to really rationalise what she should be doing if not follow strangers to safety. Even the glazed over awe in Alice’s expression while Gothel had cast her magic and while she felt protective, the was a slight excited fear within the new girl over Alice.

‘Wait, what about my Papa?’ Alice exclaims, panicking as they finally meet cold air of the courtyard. The girl looks back the way they came and into the palace which has come to resemble a chaos of fabrics and screams that rush to their safety.

‘I’ll go get him, you wait. Do not move,’ the girl's voice is stern, and Alice knows not to disobey.

She nods silently as the girl’s hand now leaves her and she disappears into the building again leaving Alice alone feeling responsible for the mess.

If she was the one Gothel wanted, then she would have to be the one to solve this. Disappear and then Gothel would have no reason to haunt the rest of the kingdom. She throws her arms around herself in an attempt of warmth and then presses into the darkness. A childish reason keeps her going, hoping to find something that would give her reason to stop. Yet none came. None, but the tragic wind which met Alice as she reached the Humpty’s Wall. Trying her balance across it, the wind sweets her feet from under her. Falling to the ground, she tries to keep her arms out in front of her, but to no avail. Landing on her head, she falls into a deep sleep. Gothel’s wish had come to pass after all. And Alice from then ceased to exist. Waking as a child free from her past. No longer Alice, but no longer anyone at all.


	2. ii

The Enchanted Forest, like much of the realm, descended into a darkness so bleak it touched even the hearts of the innocent new-borns who had not yet known evil but were somehow aware of it. After the Great Purge of the royal family and its close acquaintances, the common person no longer knew happiness in the little things of life. Under new rule, society almost gave up their search for peace, stunk in a constant state of dissatisfaction. A magical ceiling had been placed that physically prevented people from reaching even the small inter peace one should know. Crops would always fall one or two yields short. Money would always be only a few pence off rent. The days never quite hot enough or cold enough to be enjoyable. Everything was simple ‘almost’.

Gothel, even to those she had fought for the freedom of, found her methods too extreme, and, like the previous regime she had fought against, as cast out. Only, rather than a banishment as the previous rulers had granted her, the new power knew little mercy. Sentencing her to an eternal state of almost death. On the verge of dying, but never fully able to be at peace. Always taking her last breath.

Small reminders had been left after the royal family had departed to their new lives, void of luxuries and power but still living. The palaces, now just empty reminders of a brighter time when they had known joy. Trinkets, possessions, and of course, the stories. The old maid of the palace now knew almost wealth from the amount people would pay for her stories. The horse groomer to the Queen earned an almost fortune from what he sold snippings of horse hair for. It was a happy madness that kept people alive and not empty shells of labourers.

And of course, the most powerful people among the common person were those who could share stories of that night. were And anyone who had seen what became of the birthday girl herself. Rumours varied from person to person, some believing in her death at the hands of Gothel herself, some saying that she became an ally to Gothel and abandoning her known life to lead one of destruction.

‘I saw it in her eye that night,’ one would say, ‘something sick. Like she was one of them.’

‘Nonsense. Alice would have never joined Gothel. She was too good.’

‘So was Drizella until she joined her.’

Arguments went back and forth across counters, playgrounds and pathways. But never too loud. Though everyone knew everyone was talking about the mysterious ending to Alice Jones, it was never addressed with the new reigning power. The mere possibility of noticeable light like Alice walking around these towns was too dangerous to consider. But one thing was known about her, she did not go with her Papa. Frantically he had searched for her in the week after her birthday. Until it became too dangerous for himself to stay there any longer. Living on hope alone of her escape, he sent out the detail of a reward to the far lands of that realm and others. The person who presented him with his lost child was to receive one hundred thousand pieces of gold. A price no one could have ignored.

Least of all Robin. Daughter of two of the closest relatives to the Royal family had attended the palace that night and had seen the outcome of many lives that night. Yet for reasons known only to her, she kept this fact a secret. Claiming to not have attended when asked about her involvement with the royal family. It was easy to distance herself from them considering she was more than a distant relative, but it had crossed her mind once or twice to sell her stories for the cash she needed to find somewhere for her and her mother to settle down. Her mother, being one of the darkest witches to inhabit the Enchanted Forest, but also having recently renounced her casting, there were few places who would accommodate her or her daughter for less than a fortune.

For her, it was one scam after another, bridged together with petty theft. It wasn't a life anyone was proud of. But it wasn't as though she associated with many people anymore who could have judged her on her poor life decisions. The only people she socialised with were as crooked as she was, only not as good. She was one of the best, known by reputation of being a little too good at deception. And the person she was the greatest at deceiving was herself. Her ability to convince herself that she was happy with the never-ending criminal lifestyle was impeccable.

The only one she had never been able to convince was her confidant, and the closest thing to a friend she had; Rumple. Stuck in the same limbo between aiming for redemption but also having to take felonious methods to get there. At one time Rumple's reputation had struck fear into the heart of even the most powerful witches, but in years gone past he'd gone soft.

Perhaps it would have been easier if he's still maintained that ability to elicit such terror in people from the single glace in their direction. It would have made haggling easier. Made a lot of deals a lot easier. But when it came to it, he was too wounded from his own ghosts to even consider the life he used to lead. With meaningless murder and actions, he himself finds too horrific to remember. Now, seeing his face evoked the same reaction one would expect when seeing a school bully; a memory of trauma but finding it no longer threatening.

'Holding auditions out by the old farm.' Rumple says as they walk, Robin half a step ahead, towards the marketplace. They were in search of memorabilia relating to the lost Alice. However, they'd be lucky if they found a lock of hair at the rate their luck was leading them.

'I know.' Robin replies, earning a confused expression from Rumple, 'I overheard in the Crossbows bar last night,' she expands.

Rumple doesn't mention her fourth night in a row at the establishment, but his sigh and the look in his eye is enough.

'This is going to be it!' she exclaims in false excitement. This is been 'it' for the past three years and still, they made plans for the next time. 'We'll be out of this place before the week it out!'

'Do you think she's actually still alive?' Rumple asks, almost not realising he was speaking his thoughts out loud.

'I don't know.' Robin thinks but then shakes the thought, 'And I don't care. As long as we get someone who managed to convince her papa that she's the real deal then I don't care one bit about the real Alice.'

* * *

The real Alice, of course, had unknowingly stayed in the Enchanted Forest, not ten miles from where she had lived before. Waking up each day under the name that had been given to her at the orphanage, and that she had retained each day since then. She had no reason to tell people otherwise, and so the day she had been found and brought to St Lazarus', she had been reborn as Tilly. No surname. There was no need. The first same its out of ease for those who would scream it at the top of their lungs when the particular blonde would fail to follow instruction and rule.

They'd guessed her age when she'd joined the orphanage, but they'd guessed it wrong. They told her she was nine. Gave her a birthday they'd plucked out of the sky, which they had also gotten wrong. And told her she'd been abandoned. Been left out in the cold by a family that didn't want her. Which, of course, they'd gotten frightfully wrong. It had been that lie in particular that had erased any temperament Alice had had and replaced it with a self-doubt and isolation that she suffered from. While still kind in nature, the life she knew at the orphanage had made her hard and distrustful.

Both she and the staff were glad when she finally turned the age of emancipation. At eighteen she was able to turn her back upon that frightful chapter of her life and step into the first lines of the next chapter with an open mind and fresh ideas. But, she had been foolish to think she could have found her place in the world with only the tattered, hand-sewn clothes on her back and a single wooden chess piece with an empty promise carved into the bottom of it. She'd spent years searching for either Hyperion or Eos and found that neither of which existed. An old myth. Something that had perhaps meant something to someone, but not to her. She had grown convinced that the trinket, in fact, did not belong to her, but to someone that had lost it. Tilly had only come into possession of it by accident but felt an attachment to it that she could not put into words. The only thing she'd ever had to be truly hers. There were no other possessions she had claim to. No clothes; the ballgown she'd been found in had long ago seen it's last days. No favourable memories to keep dear to her. No person to even call her own. There was just a chess piece with now rounded edges, making it barely recognisable as the piece it had once been.

It was the only thing that sat proudly upon her shelf in the small hut of a house she had built at the edge of the town. Always on the outside, but it was her own fault this time. Now it was her keeping everyone at arm's length. It was a small power that she was finally able to take satisfaction of. And yet, she still felt hollow when she watched the people go about their own lives without her. There was something she was missing. While it was a fact that no one knew satisfaction in the way of finance and power, there was a contentment in the people's faces when they spoke to their neighbours that she would never know. Never feel the warmth of. And now she was able to only blame herself for it.

She stands at the door of the post office awaiting her instruction for the day, but as usual, there was a delay in the message system and it was likely she'd be waiting the whole day to perhaps only deliver one message. Something small like a reminder from the regime to one of the town's people who were still to pay their taxes. And it would only earn her a couple pennies if she was lucky. If she was unlucky she knew she'd find herself stand outside that door until dark and receive nothing from it.

The messengers were not known by anyone as people. They were machines who ran back and forth across the land to deliver notes and letters. A life lived through letting other people live their own. For small change as a reward.

Eventually, she slides her back down the wooden panel of the door, knowing she'd clung to false hope that today she'll earn her dinner. What life is this to have been dealt?

She watches. It's all she ever does. Watches as people pass by in their own lives on their own pathways in a time and space that Tilly does not travel in. Almost on a completely different timeline light years away, she watches people move about years quicker than she can comprehend.

She takes a breath. What if she were to abandon it all? Could she even do it? Did she have enough trust that the universe would align itself to keep her safe?

So, she puts it to the universe. Give her a sign and she'd trust it. And she waits for it to make its promise. But the only difference she feels with the world is a heavier breeze against her cheek. And it's barely noticeable. There's no security. And yet, why does she still feel such a lust in her chest to try it anyway? And, like a bird making the decision to spread its wings for the first time, Tilly comes to the decision that she will too. What use is being free from the orphanage when she was only trapping herself within another prison? Not even the facade of freedom was worth it any longer. She needed the real thing.

But, making up her mind to finally leave is as far as she gets. Not even moving from that doorstep. Not sure where to go. She had no map, no plans, no idea of what lay over the boundary of this town.

And perhaps this was the point. It's no adventure if you know each step of the journey. She stands, shrugging off the cloth bag on her shoulder and leave it there. For the next nobody to make use of until they too moved on to bigger things.

Like the ghost she is, she walks through the town back to her hut, but this time with her head held high and now more excitement floating between her ears than ever had since she'd woken up on the floor of the forest. There is nothing disturbed when she reaches what she'd called her home, but had somehow always felt like a temporary band-aid of a home. Somehow, she'd expected a rush of the desire to stay when she walked in and sat on the old hay of her bed. But her chest feels as apathetic towards the walls as it always had.

She grabs the one cloak she had that kept off the cold, and the one scarf that she owned. These, along with the clothes on her back and the shoes on her feet were the only things she took with her when she left. These and a worn chess piece shoved safely into the bottom of her pocket for comfort.

It's barely a mile from town when there's a shift in the air that pushes against her. So powerfully, she almost takes it as a reason not to leave the Enchanted Forest at all.

Dragging in the wind, trying and failing almost as much as Tilly to power through is a small rabbit. With fur as white as the eye, and eyes as fierce as a person. Tilly picks it up to try to help, but it struggles against her clutches. Kicking its legs forcefully against her arms and chest, falling to the ground again once Tilly had let go.

'I was trying to help!' she calls out over the wind, but as she opens her mouth it stops. Calm again as a blue sky. Tilly looks up, across the land she's about to walk and takes a breath. But theirs a tugging on her scarf that causes her to look down again. One loose piece of wool wrapped around the foot of the rabbit who hops away to unravel the scarf even more than it already was.

'Wait!' Tilly calls after the animal with the hope it will obey. But alas, it continues on its own path in the opposite direction to what she had hoped. She runs after it, back on the path to town.

Finally, close enough to get her hands on the creature, she reaches down and unpicks the thread from the rabbit's foot and ties it off so as to not unravel more. The rabbit stops now, waiting for Tilly somehow.

'Well, I'm not helping you.' She tells it, but it hops closer, almost on top of her foot now. 'Great,' she says reaching down to pick up the rabbit once again, this time with it causing less of a disturbance.

As she turns to walk her way it fights against her again, she turns and it ceases. 

'Right, you want to go back into town?' She tests it, turning back and forth as the rabbit begins and finishes its irritation. 'I guess we're going back to town then.'

She constructs a makeshift sling from her scarf and places the rabbit peacefully in it. 'You better be right, you Troll. Because I'm sort of on my own mission. You see, I'm in search of...,' she pauses in thought, 'something. I don't know what yet, but I'll know it when I see it.'

They arrive at the town centre again. Tilly feeling suddenly lower than before she had left. What had fate got in store that it would bring her back to the very epicentre of hopelessness? She gazes across the square to a small family, bruised but not broken. Children with smiles and parents with pride. Tilly realises that's the something she's searching for. That smile on her own lips. And she known one day she has to find it. But, she just knows it won't be here.

'So, which way next, Mr Rabbit?' 


	3. iii.

It's a known fact that while everyone wanted to leave what was left of the Enchanted Forest, only a few people ever actually managed so. Travel across the realms was known to be tricky business that involved licences and mainly luck. One of the only ways to skip across the realms was via beans. Beans which opened portals, but to where and when the portals would open was something that no one could say with certainty. There was an art in those calculations that only a few knew. And those few never staying in the Enchanted Forest for long enough to pass on their knowledge. Not if they could help it. Yet people still tried. Trains ran around the land to take passengers to areas that had once had a portal and so perhaps would again. But, only when those who ventured out did not return could it be known that it had opened. Some spent their entire lives chasing clues, wasting their lives in the pursuit and just missing it each time.

All of this, however, was news to Tilly, who marched up to the train platform with the intention to easily board a train and find her way out of this cursed land.

'You have ID?' the train conductor asks barely looking down at her. 

Tilly shakes her head adding a 'no' when she realises he hasn't noticed. 

'Do you even have a surname, kid?'' he asks mockingly. 

She straightens her stance to stand up taller, more defensive, 'of course I do!' she shouts, 'it's...' she pauses. She can't even think of a surname to lie around. 

The man laughs, 'no ID, no ticket.' And as Tilly is readying herself to unleash all known profanities, he walks away to deal with another, paying customer. 

'Well, Mr Rabbit. You were wrong, looks like we aren't leaving that way.' 

'Psst,' a voice calls behind her causing her to look behind in surprise. A small elderly woman, using a stick for support edges towards Tilly. Tilly clutches the rabbit closer for protection. 

'If you want to get out of the Forest, go see Rumplestiltskin. He can help.' 

Tilly leans in closer, cursing herself for her initial judgement. 'The crocodile?' she asked. Rumours were food at the orphanage, and Rumplestiltskin often played a key part in the misfortunate ones. 

'His skin and his conscience have cleared up a great deal recently.' the woman explains as though she's had to say those exact same words countless times before. 'You'll find him by the old farm.' 

Tilly wants to ask where the 'old farm' is. Or even how Rumplestiltskin could help her. But she's quickly budged off the station platform by the same guard from earlier who glares at the woman and at Tilly. Shooing her with his hands, she clutches the rabbit and makes her way from the station into the town again. As before, it seemed the rabbit in his sling desperately wants to make it known that he knows the way. He pushes against the fabric to indicate what direction Tilly is to walk in. And, with nothing else to go one, Tilly follows the creature out of town and into the deep woods speaking to it in a one-sided conversation. 

The only way someone could ever be certain about a portal opening at the right moment to the right place, was if it had been grown for you, picked by you and wished upon with your own soul. But raw beans were as scarce as information about the portals. Grown in another realm and hardly ever brought to the Enchanted Forest unless it was to sell for high amounts on the black market. 

A black market at which Robin and Rumple's faces had been seen on the regular. A black market that Robin knew well who and how to steal from. Over the years she'd perhaps stolen more than she'd paid for. Certainly when it came to the ratio of beans. Not one coin had ever been given in exchange for beans. But she'd had her hand on more than a few. There was no point in even humouring herself in the belief that she could save up for one. It was a case of steal or go without, and going without when it came to her frequent journey's was not even plausible. 

In her current possession were three beans. One for each of her and Rumple, and the last for Alice. She was the last part of the plan they needed. The most essential. And perhaps the most difficult to find. 

The old farm had belonged to Robin's family before the uprising. Not piles of weeds growing out of the dirt. An old farmhouse, now abandoned and covered in vine. A cowshed, empty and crumbling. It was a wreck, and Robin sort of felt a strange attachment to it. Not in the way someone usually would towards their childhood home; that sense of familiarity and comfort in the memories that run down the paths like happy ghosts trapped in a moment. There was nothing comforting about this place any longer. Nothing Robin longed to go back to, not anymore. But she empathised with it. Pitied it. And used it to gage lost years. 

She and Rumple had dragged one of the old horse carts out into the entrance and propped it up with hay to make a stage. No expense spared for glamour. Then, they pile sticks and hay and leaves to make places for them to sit upon while they watched and organised those who had come to 'audition'. A painstaking process that took up hours of their time they knew they would never get back. From the number of auditions they held, they expected the number to eventually dwindle down as they travelled from land to land. But alas, no matter where they went to, flocks of people still queued up and waited for their chance at the fortune. The process itself involved a short quiz, an acting portion and a quick q and a session for any confusion between auditioners and auditionees to get out of their system. In all their years only a handful had ever made it to the final part of the process, most falling at the first hurdle alone. 

Their current 'Alice' on stage with a forced high pitched voice is tapdancing precariously close to the edge of the stage. Seeming to be enjoying themselves, Robin lets them finish their act before then offering a courteous smile and then hurrying them off the stage for the next person. 

Said next person is no better. A tall stocky woman built for the hammer throw rather than the role of Alice. Still, they begin the questioning process with a few simple questions about the Royal family, Killian himself, and other basic questions that the real Alice would be able to answer without a second thought. 

'The night of the ball, can you tell me the occasion?' 

The 'Alice' pauses. They have no idea, but they're going to give it a god-damned good try at guessing, 'it was... the first day of spring. We were celebrating the return of such a fruitful season of growth and rebirth.' 

Rumple groans a little too loud next to Robin who gestures for them to exit the stage, which they do angrily. 

'Robin, we aren't going to find an Alice like this.' Rumple says with a huff, crossing yet another name off their list. 

'Sure we are. Just... we need to keep looking is all,' the optimism sounds forced as it leaves her mouth. Even she doesn't fully believe her own words, but they're in too deep now. However many attempts later, Robin barely knew what to work towards if not this.

* * *

As Tilly walks from person to person, asking for directions to the old farm she's met with gazes that size her up. Seemingly impressed with what they see they point her in the vague direction in the woods that Tilly follows happily until she gets inevitably lost once again. But, the further and further she travels the fewer people there are to ask directions off of, and so she happens to spend her time following the direction of the path most travelled. 

The rabbit, now offering no help whatsoever in the way of guiding has given up on even watching where it is that Tilly takes the pair of them. When eventually Tilly admits she's completely lost she settles down on the forest ground. Sitting on the grass with her legs outstretched in front of her, knocking her boots together. She wouldn't even know how to get back to the town centre now. If she wanted to. Which she keeps telling herself she does not. But gosh, the hunger is settling in now. 

She sets the sling down next to her, the rabbit happily waiting on the grass by Tilly, sensing the air. Until something catches its attention. A shift in the wind perhaps, and it takes off between the trees in pursuit of something specific that Tilly cannot see. 

'I'm not chasing you!' she calls after the now faint white blur in the distance. She manages four seconds before, with a huff, she gets up to chase after the pain. 

Inside a door at the foot of a tower that towers over Tilly yet causes her no pause. She knows it should evoke even a little caution in her, but somehow there's nothing. It feels almost like second nature to push that wooden door open and step inside. It's the inside that causes her to freeze. It's unsettling, old and broken. Abandoned. Alone. There's a whistle in the air that, though only caused by the broken window panes and broken shutter, feels like teasing. 

'Mr Rabbit?' she tries, her voice echoing back at her. She whispers her words with fear she'll disturb whatever ghosts have been left behind here. A light switch to her left that she knows will be there without looking for it. She flicks the switch illuminating the room, revealing a child's room under a layer of thick dust and moss. Undisturbed since whoever left, only the wilderness has made it's home here now. 

Shrugging off her scarf she drops it on top of one of the desks. The one set up for an unfinished tea party. A cake long past rotting in the middle of the table. An unfinished pot of tea next to it. She runs her hands along the edge of the wood, carved with pictures, with initials, with poems. Tilly tries to take them all in, store them to memory as though they were her own words. She finds herself being able to guess the next word before she'd read the previous. 

'Mr Rabbit, where have you brought us?' she asks allowed, but not to the rabbit at all. 

She wanders about the room, forgetting her initial reason for even coming here. Too engrossed in her own discovery now. Her hands run over the spines of the books on the shelves, her fingers gently feel the soft bed covers that she craves to wrap around herself for comfort. 

'Who would leave this life?' she asks herself but there's a part of her that knows that whoever did, didn't do so optionally. There are too many moments not yet concluded. Someone who leaves for good decides they're done with where they are. They don't leave beds unmade or cakes unfinished. 

The rabbit, in its own discovery, pulls with its teeth at a curtain hanging the length of the wall. 

'You need some help?' Tilly asks, going over and pulling at it herself. And, in a flutter of fabric, they managed to rip it from it's rail and fall to the ground over the two of them. In its place, revealed is a painting, reaching to the ceiling. Unfinished, but enough to show it's potential. Beautiful images of adventures Tilly could only have hoped to even imagine. Pirate ships, far away lands, sword fights, grand balls. All lacking that detail to make them truly lifelike, but still enough that there's something inside Tilly that aches for them. Becomes entranced with them. If she imagines hard enough she can almost picture herself in them. 

'Hey!' a voice shouts, disturbing the comfortable quiet that Tilly has kept. The slam of the door threatens to shatter the wood, as a girl and man burst into the room in a fit of fury. 'What are you doing here?' the girl demands of Tilly who finds words have been lost from her. She stands guiltily still holding onto the corner of a curtain ripped down. She drops it and looks to the broken window for escape. There's a certain amount of time between Tilly looking to the window and then making her move for it, unfortunately for her, this period of time is longer than the time it takes Robin to catch on to what she is about to do and make a move to prevent this. Standing proudly in front of the window she gestures for Rumple to do the same with the door. A gesture too subtle for him to catch on. 

'Rumple! Block the door!' Robin says sternly. Rumple holds up his hands innocently and obediently plods over to the door where he lamely crosses his arms in attempt to look like a blockage. 

'Rumple?' Tilly asks taking a step towards him. 

'That I am.' he says proudly, standing up straighter and seemingly forgetting his barricade role instantly. 

'I was told you could help me get an ID?' Tilly takes another step forward, ignoring Robin completely, who is less than pleased with this. Leaving her own post by the window she looks around the room. Knowing very well who's room it was, but never having stepped foot here. It's one of the unwritten rules of the land. Scavengers have rules too. And to never take from the Lost Alice's tower was one. A rule combined with an inability, for nobody until now had managed to open the door. 

Her eyes settle on the tapestry behind Tilly, a young girl with blond hair and blue eyes. A young girl who, if aged by ten years would probably look like the woman stood in front of the picture. 

'Rumple,' Robin says softly, interrupting whatever business plans she was not paying attention to, 'Do you see what I see?' she asks, again gesturing towards the picture on the wall, that Rumple doesn't notice. 

Instead, his attention is caught by the small white ears pocking out from the curtain discarded on the floor. He rushed forward, past Tilly to uncover the small creature and cradle it in his arms like a newborn child. Robin and Tilly alike stand to watch him curiously. 

'A rabbit?' Robin states, a question of Rumple's character in her voice. She then looks to Tilly to gauge her reaction also. 'Is he yours?' 

'Sort of.' she pauses, 'The rabbit, not the man.' 

Robin rolls her eyes, rethinking the likeness between this girl and the lost one. Alice was regal. A dainty, well-spoken child beyond her years. This girl was... not. Erratic and childish. But then she's reminded of her and Rumple's failure at the farm. Not a simple passable Alice in all of the Enchanted Forest. She looks the girl up and down, perhaps she could pass on a visual likeness alone. Someone so uncannily like Alice that any lack of knowledge could be overlooked. 

'Oi!' Tilly shouts to Robin who has lost herself in thought, 'want to stop looking me up and down? I feel like an exhibition at a zoo.' 

Robin snortles, 'Mmm. Familiar with that situation.' 

Tilly is about to retort, but Rumple speaks instead, 'You were after ID, was it?' 

'Yes,' Tilly nods, almost turning her back on Robin now. 'My name's Tilly.' 

'What...,' Robin steps back into the girl's line of sight, 'are you wanting with an ID, Tilly?'

'I want to leave the Enchanted Forest.' 

Robin scoffs, trying to share a knowing look with Rumple but it's quickly dismissed, 'Yes. But, where do you want to go?' 

Tilly pauses, she doesn't know anywhere else. She just knows anywhere not here is where she wants to be. 'Just, somewhere else.' 

Robin nods, 'right.' Pause. 'Helpful.' 

Rumple interjects before Robin says something else sarcastic, 'Tilly... is there a surname?' 

'No.' she says, 'It's weird, but I actually don't know my surname. Or if I ever had one. I mean, I guess I did... do. I just... don't remember it. Or anything before I was nine really--' If given the chance Rumple doubted she'd stop in her narrative, so he stops her and tries to refocus the conversation. 

'Well, if you're in want of an ID you'll need to come up with one.' 

'Why nine?' Robin cuts in making herself part of the conversation she'd been paying little attention to. 'What happened before you were nine?' 

Tilly looks at her with surprise, 'I don't know. I don't remember anything. I was found abandoned in the woods.' 

Deep in thought, Robin smiles to herself, 'perfect.' 

An answer which evidently doesn't please Tilly who doesn't seem pleased with anything Robin has said thus far, or Rumple who is now focussing on the rabbit in his arms only.   
'Well, you see.' Robin says slowly as though her every word is being thought of the second before it is spoken, 'Rumple and I are on our way to a place called Hyperion Heights.

In America. Boring realm really but, you know; tight schedule--' 

'Hyperion?' Tilly asks, hand in pocket clutching the chess piece for comfort. 

'Err, yes?' Robin says, 'that a problem?' 

'No.' Tilly is quick with her answer, 'I've heard it... from in town.' 

Robin quick dismissed the comment and continues with what she was saying, 'Right. Anyway, so as I was saying; Rumple and I are going there, and we have a spare ticket you see.' There's a gleam of hope in Tilly's eyes, 'but, unfortunately. This last one,' she waves it in front of Tilly, 'is for her.' she points to the tapestry. 

Tilly looks up to the wall again and pieces the rumours of the town together. The girl on the wall, the one who this whole tower belonged to. The abandoned birthday cake, the unfinished projects. This was the room of the lost Alice Jones. 

'Oh.' Tilly sounds, disappointed. All her hopes shattered in the eyes of a lost girl painted on a wall. 

It's the uneasiness of her voice that Robin can't help but feel sorry for. Quickly she tries to backstep, ease her. 'You do sort of resemble her.' 

But Tilly shakes her head almost instinctively. The girl on the wall is adventurous, she'd sweet and innocent. All things that Tilly is not. 

'Same eyes,' Rumple adds from where he is stood, 'sea blue.' 

Robin nods, taking a step to stand next to Tilly, 'the same smile too,' she says guarantees a smile from Tilly who subconsciously tries to mirror the image in front of her. Robin notes it, sees she'd succeeding and carries on, 'and Killian's nose.' 

Tilly's hands found her way to her nose, but then she snaps out of her daydream and steps back visually separating herself from the ridiculousness of it all. 

'Don't be ridiculous. I can't be Alice. I'm... just not.' 

Rumple glances over to Robin, his own and more obvious gesture. A look that says 'oh well' very clearly. But Robin is having none of it. They'd come too far now, and there was no chance she was losing this girl simply because of her own lack of self-confidence. That can all come to light after they'd been paid. 

'We've interviewed thousands of girls from many realms and none look as much like the Lost Alice as you do.' there's a pleading in her tone, but she tells herself she's doing it for effect. 

Tilly scoffs, 'people call me crazy, but you're on a whole other level. You know, it's almost cruel to plant these sort of... hopes in someone's head.' and, without much protest, she begins to walk out of the room. 

Both Robin and Rumple stay where they are. The rabbit now showing it's protest against them. Rumple places the rabbit on the floor again, but it doesn't go far. 

'Robin, she...' Rumple starts but Robin raises her hand, three fingers raised. On the count of each second, she lowers another one until she's down to zero. Rumple waits, confused but patient. 

Until, on the count, Tilly walks back into the room with a look of self-disappointment. Rumple and Robin share a look with one another before then looking to Tilly. 

'I don't remember who I am,' Tilly begins as Rumple and Robin feign curiosity as to where her statement is going, 'so I don't know that I'm not Alice. I guess.' 

Robin hums, encouraging her to continue. 

'And if I'm not Alice then Killian will know instantly, right? Honest mistake.' 

'Exactly,' Rumple adds, 'And if you are, you'll have found your family.' 

Tilly pauses, the word halting her; 'family'. A word so foreign to her it almost scratches her skin. 

'Either way. You get to leave here.' Robin continues apathetic to Tilly's obvious need for the momentary halt. 

Tilly nods, suddenly back to herself and defensive once again. 'Good.' 

Glad to have the final word, she walks from the tower, foot finally crossing back over the boundary of the tower for the first time since she had left all those years ago.

Something, which while did not feel significant to anyone present, sent shock waves into the air waking an evil once again that had been dormant for so long. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed x


	4. iv.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry this is so late. My laptop broke, twas very sad, and i've only just bought my new one, tis very chic. So, i've quickly gotten this written. I hope you enjoy it. And I /should/ then have the next chapter on Saturday as per. As always, thank you and stay marvellous x

In her state of almost death, Gothel knew no peace. She knew only regret. An unfinished business burned at her insides like the hell in which she found herself living in. A rage that refused to be extinguished. There was little else she could do, trapped alone in suffering than plotting her eventual revenge. Each night she pictured the face of the one responsible for all of her suffering. The root of everything that she had lost; Alice. One day she would finally have her chance, destroy the girl who had destroyed her. But, there was no chance for destruction in an underworld frozen in time.

Her one chance had been left in the hands of a broken child. Torn down by her own family, her own sense of failure. A child who had sought her out for redemption, but there wasn’t any that Gothel could offer. There was only purpose. And this was all that Drizella seemed to need. There was nothing that filled the void in that girl quite like purpose. Before having worked at Lackey to her own mother, but having proven too poor at receiving instructions with no gratification in return. It was easy to keep her loyal; give her a purpose and a belief that she’s succeeding with it. All Gothel needed to do was offer crumbs of reward in reply to the most difficult of tasks, and Drizella swore her loyalty to Gothel for as long as they both existed. 

After Gothel’s temporary destruction Drizella had found herself scavenging small rewards from those who needed jobs doing. Quickly growing bored of each, she moved from one to the other quickly and without a second thought. There was little to keep her interested other than the use of her own magic and the faux companionship she had found in Gothel. Her family having moved without any information left of them, and having no reputation to build upon to climb the ranks of the new elite, she remained at the bottom of the hierarchy. Clawing at the ranks but only ever dirtying her fingernails. She survived on the promise of Gothel’s return, and thus, the return of purpose. 

A regular at the auditions for the Lost Alice, Drizella kept the back. Watching for the chance of finding the lost girl, a way for her leader to return. Usually unlucky, she had found herself expected never to find the missing girl and survive in this persistent waiting until the day she died. She considered that perhaps the girl had died all those years ago and consequently, so had Gothel. Both destroying one another. 

Until, she spies from the trees the old Crocodile, the daughter of the retired Wicked Witch and an unknown girl. Blonde hair, blue eyes, nobody. Drizella had seen her about the town centre, the orphan with no home and no aspirations. Barely even sparing her a second through, Drizella had seen no threat from the girl. Until now. For there was a sense of the realm shifting as the trio left that tower together. Alice’s tower. More than just a coincidence. 

She smiles widely, watching them leave for the new Realm. The one that everyone from this one had settled in. The second chance they were all fooling themselves with. There was nowhere without magic that one could settle in peacefully. 

She knows the correct spell, theoretically. Practically is another matter, she’d never had to use it before now. To restore someone from the dead. Surely bringing someone back from that point of almost-death would be easier? 

Crouching down to centre her weight, muttering the correct words she’d read over and over-committing them to memory all those years ago after Gothel had gone missing. There’s a crack in the ground beneath her that opens up wider and wider with each verse of the spell. Blind to it at first, Drizella realises too later the effect of her spell before she falls deep into the Earth. 

Tumbling deeper and deeper into the pits of the earth until she lands with a thud on her back, she tries to quickly recover her stance. An awful place with walls made of rot and winds made of screams. This was there Gothel had found herself for the last decade, waiting. 

There’s barely a moment a moment of pause for Drizella to gather herself before she’s thrown against one of the flimsy walls, flaking away with even the smallest contact. An invisible restraint holds her in place, pressing against her throat, restricting each breath that little bit more each time she breathes. 

‘Drizella?’ a voice then echoes off the screams as Drizella once again falls to the ground. Her knees now an amalgamation of dirt and blood. ‘How did you find me?’ Gothel asks walking out from the shadows, having not aged a day despite Drizella showing the years that had passed. 

‘The Resurrection Spell you showed me.’ Drizella says brushing off her dress. 

‘I see. But why now? It’s been years, why do you choose now to disturb me?’ 

Drizella looks around, hardly considering her action a ‘disturb’ and more of a ‘saviour’. ‘I saw Alice.’ 

Gothel grimaces. ‘That girl,’ she spits, ‘is still alive?’ 

Making sure to protect herself first, Drizella nods timidly. 

‘I’ve been stuck here in this… hell for fourteen years while she’s been walking around living her life?’ 

Drizella merely nods once again. 

‘Then our mission is clear.’ 

But the mission seems a little cloudy to Drizella who stands motionless, waiting for a more finite instruction. 

‘To destroy the balance once and for all. To destroy the light so that darkness can prevail once and for all. No more of this hope that people seem to hold onto even in the darkest of hours. Finally, they will pay for what they did to me. They will suffer for the eternity they cursed upon.’ 

There’s a pause, waiting for Drizella to add something to the conversation, but she has nothing to offer other than a quick nod to show she’s following the plan. 

‘First, I need magic. Mine was stripped away when I was sentenced here.’ 

Wishing she didn’t, Drizella knows exactly what they demand calls for; her own magic to be stripped away. A sacrifice for the greater good, or the greater evil as it were. 

Without so much as a confirmation, Gothel is quick to draw each strand of magic within Drizella and weave it into her own being. It wasn’t a magic she was used to, wasn’t as raw and powerful. But it would do for what she needed it for. She would exercise it in a way that Drizella never had, never used her full potential. And it was there, Gothel could feel it, but there was something instinctive that had always prevented Drizella from using it. But Gothel wasn’t as hesitant as her assistant.

She spared no qualms for the consequences that power can cause. There was only an endpoint that Gothel wished to reach and didn’t care what manner she reached it.

* * *

Much to the annoyance of Robin, the rabbit joined them. Mainly in the care of Rumple who had taken a particular fondness to the small creature that seemed to counteract every action Tilly had ever heard of him. She’d told them both the rabbit was simply called Mr Rabbit, struggling to think of anything better to offer. Though Rumple had taken to calling the creature ‘Sir’ simply because it ‘suited him more’. Neither of the girls questioned it any further. 

They’d made it to the train station with three ID ready, and selected which ticket conductor they showed them to. Tilly was unversed with the way the whole system worked, but she knew that it wasn’t as tricky as having to select certain conductors to check tickets. The whole thing seemed a little too untrustworthy to her, but she was quickly reminded that this was the only option she had if she ever wanted to leave the realm she despised so much. 

‘Right, carriage three,’ Robin states, looking down at the freshly bought tickets in her hand. She hands one to Rumple and then keeps the other two in her hand. Rumple is quick to scoop Sir in one hand and his single case of luggage in the other, and then take the lead towards the correct carriage of the train. Robin follows with her own luggage, and Tilly then trailing behind with her single flimsy bag in her hand.

Although she’d never been on a train before and thus has no idea how the whole thing worked or where to go, Tilly still wished she’d been given her own ticket to keep hold of while they boarded. She felt somewhat like Robin’s child as the tickets were handed over on her behalf and she had nothing to do but look out of the windows and watch the land she hated pass by. 

Sitting in the cramped compartment, Tilly rests her feet on the seat opposite her as Rumple sits in the corner, Sir sitting on his lap happily playing with the cuffs of Rumple’s sleeves. The only one, it seemed, unhappy with the situation, was Robin. She sat folded up next to Tilly trying to read her old book in her hand, Alice in Wonderland. Key research to help when it came to teaching Tilly how to be Alice further than just looking like her. 

‘Alice wouldn’t slump like that?’ Robin remarks at Tilly who is almost lying across the seats. 

Tilly looks over at Robin with an annoyed expression. Sure this was her way out of the Enchanted Forest, but at what cost? If she had to survive the whole journey with Robin making small comments on every little action she took, then she doubted the two of them would even make it to this Hyperion they were heading towards. 

‘How do you know how Alice would have sat?’ she quips. Rumple looking back and forth between the two girls in front of him just waiting for the fight to break out.   
‘It’s my business to know.’ Robin barely looks up from her book. 

Tilly hums to herself in disbelief, ‘Well, if I’m Alice, as you claim. Then how I sit is how Alice sits.’ She’s proud of herself for that one, but it doesn’t please Robin in the slightest who, in return simply kicks Tilly’s feet off of the seat in front of her forcing her to sit up straighter. 

‘If I am Alice, I could have you imprisoned for that.’ 

That’s the last straw for Robin, who slams her book shut and leaves it in her place as she takes off out of the compartment, ‘I’m going for a walk.’ She makes the point to only tell Rumple. 

Rumple nods and then looks to Tilly who is smug at winning this round and picks up the book herself to flick through the pages.

* * *

It takes Robin half an hour to cool off and return to the compartment to find that while Rumple has left, Tilly has not moved in the last half hour. Now a fair way into the book, but hardly paying attention to it anymore and using it only as a distraction. Robin takes a seat opposite Tilly, pushing her feet to the side, while Tilly is quick to return them to the seat by Robin once she had sat down. 

‘I wanted to apologise for the way I was earlier,’ Robin starts, expecting an apology in return. Or at least an acknowledgement. Neither of which she receives as Tilly continues not reading her book. ‘I’ll try to be less strict about the whole Alice thing,’ she tries again. Still nothing, ‘it’s just very important that this works and that rest mainly up--,’ 

‘Ohmygod!’ Tilly cuts her off, ‘if I say ‘okay’ will you stop?’ 

Robin thinks about it then nods. 

‘Then okay! I accept.’ 

But still, there’s no apology in return. Robin takes her successes where she can though and then looks out of the window. Her entertainment being used as a prop by Tilly. 

‘Will you miss it? Robin then asks looking as the passing woods. 

Tilly finally shuts the book and drops it to her lap, ‘what? Your talking?’ 

‘No.’ Robin says quickly, ‘The Enchanted Forest.’ 

Tilly barely even looks out the window before giving her answer, ‘Nope.’

‘It was your home, though.’ Robin tries. 

Tilly shrugs, ‘it wasn’t a home. Home is where you don’t feel lost.’ 

Robin scoffs, which Tilly doesn’t appreciate. 

‘Well, will you miss it?’ 

Robin also answers ‘no’, but her reasoning is the opposite, ‘I’ve outgrown it here.’ 

‘Outgrown?’ Tilly repeats.

‘Yeah. I was born here, I grew up here, and now I’ve outgrown it.’ It was clear that Robin was in no mood to continue this attempt at conversation, but that wasn’t going to stop Tilly from trying. 

‘So, I guess your plan is to make Hyperion your new home?’ 

‘Home is overrated. I don’t want to settle in only one place.’ 

‘No,’ Tilly says, dismissing Robin’s statement completely, ‘It’s not about settling. It’s about having somewhere to go back to once you’ve tried of running about.’ Her voice had risen now, as she had done out of her seat to square off to Robin sitting opposite, perfectly composed. 

‘Well, I’ll never tire of running about until I’ve seen every corner of every world.’ 

‘You’re ridiculous!’ Tilly exclaims throwing her arms in the air in anger before taking off out of the carriage. 

There’s barely a moment for Robin to rethink her answer and the effect it had had upon Tilly before Rumple returns to the carriage, crossing Tilly in the hallway and knowing immediately to hold Robin responsible for the apparent awful mood. 

‘What did you say to her?’ he’s quick to conclude. 

‘Why do you assume it’s my fault?’ Robin s just as defensive in return. 

‘Because, dear, I’ve spent enough time with you to know how short a fume you have.’ Rumple looks out of the window, knowing not to look Robin in the eye as he defended the other girl. 

‘I do not have a short…,’ her voice rising and then dropping again once she’d realised her volume, ‘…fuse.’ 

Rumple hums in disagreement. Knowing to keep silent, Rumple observes how Robin then takes to muttering to herself and looking out the window. He’d known the girl long enough to know anyone who had gotten on the wrong side of Robin was easily dismissed and not given a second thought. This girl was different somehow, irritating his friend so much that she wasn’t able to let it go. It was a new development Rumple was eager to see play out. 


	5. v.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so obviously i'm a god-damned liar because i actually spent all of yesterday doing fuck all... but regardless, here is your chapter, i hope you enjoy x

They cut through miles of derelict land, faster than Tilly had ever been and going further than she had ever seen. It was something magical and liberating to feel so free already when not even having moved from one realm to another yet. Already she could feel her life in shift and the momentum at which it was changing was causing her slight motion sickness. 

The day quickly turned into night, but one not as cold as Tilly remembered and not at scary either. Though Rumple and Robin were still nothing but strangers to her, she felt a sense of security in their presence. After all, they needed her as much as she needed them. Well, perhaps not quite as much, but enough that they would warn her against any threat of harm. 

Her eyes flicker with sleep, softly drifting into unconsciousness. Head against the window being soothed to sleep by the sound of the tracks beneath them and the vacant conversation between Rumple and Robin on a subject she neither knows nor cares about. 

But as the conversation becomes more urgent, the tracks sound more stunted and she’s shaken awake by a gentle yet anxious hand. 

‘Tilly wake up. We need to leave.’ Robin says as Rumple struggles to gather all their luggage together in one tall stack. Hiding behind it, Tilly has no doubt his face bears the same uneasy expression that Robin’s currently does. 

‘Why? What’s happened?’ Tilly asks, pulling her coat around herself and retying the laces of her boots. 

But she’d answered by the sharp jolt of the carriage lurching forwards before continuing at a shuddering path. Robin looks to Tilly trying to give her knowing look, but her eyes fail her, filled with an uncertain terror. 

‘Grab your things. We’re leaving.’ She demands and grabs her own bag off Rumple to help him.

* * *

Standing atop the train is Gothel, steady in her stance as she plans the gradually terrifying route the train is to follow. Watching the tracks ahead, she picks them one by one to bend and break. The train shaking over the ruins. She sinks tracks into the grounds, the train unable to cope with the lack of guidance and slowing momentarily before finding its’ way again and hurling forwards on its journey. 

Nothing pleased Gothel more than the sound of the fear rising from the carriages into the night. Who was there to help them as the conductors knew as little as they and were showing as much distress as the passengers. Soon she’d find her Alice, whittle her out of the crowd and then she could finally finish her job.

* * *

‘Tilly, will you _please_ just follow us!’ Robin shouts as the girl trailing behind her and Rumple, almost in her own world of panicking while Robin was trying to fashion a solution. 

‘I _am_ following! If you didn’t walk so fast!’ They squeeze past the other passengers in the hallways, all moving about trying to make their own escapes and gather their things. Providing a blockade the length of the train that people fight against to move about. 

Tilly pushes people aside to make a path, losing the sight of her travelling companions for moments at a time until she works her way about the crowd to find them again. If only they’d stop so she could finally catch up with them, or if only the people on the train planned their routes better rather than standing about like clueless children. 

And soon as she commits herself to the thought the passengers begin to move. In straight lines up and down the carriage that prove a great deal easier to manoeuvre. She rushes past people to catch up with Robin, grabbing the back of her cloak as soon as she can so as not to lose her. Robin quickly shrugs off the hand pulling her back and turns, ‘what the hell are you doing?’ 

‘Catching up, like you asked me to?’ But Robin merely shrugs and continues forwards, only to find that now she’s lost Rumple. 

‘Great, now look what you’ve made me do.’ 

‘Me!?’ Tilly exclaims, ‘Not my fault you lost your friend. Come on,’ and then she grabs the cuff of Robin’s sleeve and pulls her through the crowd forcefully until she reaches Rumple, who’s standing, back against the carriage wall waiting for them. 

‘You two get a bit lost there?’ Rumple says juggling bag in one hand and rabbit in the other. 

‘No!’ Robin says sternly inspecting the now ripped cuff of her shirt. ‘You ripped my shirt!’

Tilly barely glances at it, ‘buy a new one when we get to Hyperexcitement Town.’ 

‘Hyperion.’ Robin corrects spitefully, Rumple can only watch the exchange between the two girls with amusement. 

‘I know,’ Tilly says, of course, she does, she’d been staring at an inscription with the word there for all her known life, ‘trying to lighten the mood a little.’ 

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Rumple adds, ‘but perhaps you can lighten the mood later. When we’re off this train?’ 

And Tilly doesn’t even need to look at Robin to know what her expression is.

* * *

More and more of the track breaks to her mercy as Gothel laughs into the night as her own destruction. Yet, no matter how much she tore up the track, the train continued travelling, nothing that was going to kill anyone on the train, only shake them up a little. She needs something bigger, and then she spies it. The bridge ahead, to take them over the abandoned valley below. Gothel smiles to herself and picks the structure apart, the whole thing crumbling away brick by brick. 

She targets the engine room next, scorching with heat already soon to be ablaze. The two men working the engine provide little resistance against being overthrown. Gothel merely has to threaten them with mortal words before they concede and leave the engine room of their own accord. Hardly exciting or challenging, much to Gothel’s disappointment. She seals the room, smiling at her achievement before removing herself from the disaster waiting to happen.

* * *

Making their way down the train further, Rumple, Robin and Tilly make it to the outside of the engine room. Peering in, something that the two girls fight over doing while Rumple stands back awaiting a recount, they find the room to be empty as well as locked. Robin tries to break the small glass window of the engine room, punching it until it smashes and cut her knuckles. With the window broken, a surge of heat escapes the room, singing the hairs on Tilly and Robin’s faces. But it does little more. Too small to climb through, too far away from the handle to reach around. 

‘Well done,’ Tilly remarks. 

‘You come up with something then!’ Robin shouts as she clutches her fist. 

‘We have to uncouple the engine from the cars. Eventually, the carriages will slow to a stop without the engine.’ 

Rumple and Robin look to one another first in disbelief and then to Tilly who’s already throwing her luggage into the carriages and then jumping over herself. She stands, hands on hips watching the other two and waiting. ‘Sort of don’t have all day.’ She remarks sparking the other two into action as they too throw their things over and then jump onto the right side of the train. Looking down to the connectors Robin takes the lead, jumping down into it to try and pull it apart with her bare hands. 

‘That won’t work!’ Tilly calls down, but Robin, ever the persistent one continues to try. 

‘Pass me a wrench or something to help then!’ she shouts over the deafening chugging of the train. Except when something is passed to her, it’s not cold like a wrench should be, but warm and cylindrical? She looks up, sizzling dynamite in her hand. 

‘That’ll work!’ she notes, wedging it within the joint and then scrambling for the carriage floor again.   
Rumple pulls her up easily as the three of them stand side by side waiting for the dynamite to sizzle down and finally separate the cars. 

‘Where the hell did you find that?’ Robin asks Tilly who gestures behind herself absently towards no specific location. She has to admit it was a wise move, but she doesn’t aloud. She daren’t. They watch as the joint is blown apart from one another, the engine speeding off into the distance, a vacant glow powering ahead. 

‘That was close.’ Tilly states, ‘is it always like this?’ 

Rumple chuckles, ‘no. You just got lucky.’ 

‘Well, it’s all done with now. We’ll just have to wait until we coast to a sto--,’ but she’s cut off by the urgent prodding from Tilly who’s pointing ahead to the track they can only just make out. As the engine hurries onwards, it reaches a bridge before the structure comes toppling down into the valley. 

‘You were saying?’ Tilly says spitefully. Robin huffs, looking around for inspiration of a plan. 

She grabs a chain, hook on the end and then looks down at the tracks moving too quickly to even identify as more than a blur. Thrusting the chain at Rumple, ‘Rumple, I’m gonna need a hand with this.’ She warns before then stepping down onto what remains of the joint of the carriages. 

The door behind the two remaining passengers on the carriage level begins to open. Roundy passengers on the train wishing to get off or to at least get outside. Rumple drops the chain, rushing towards the door to keep it closed and keep the passengers in. 

‘Rumple! Hand me the chain!’ Robin shouts from below. 

Tilly picks it up, shuffling over the edge of the floor and then handing the chain to Robin, who is reluctant to take it from her. 

‘Not you!’ she spits. 

‘Rumple’s busy so it’s me or the Grim Reaper, make up your mind.’ 

Robin takes the hook, reaching down with one hand to hook the chain onto the undercarriage. Losing her balance slightly as she does so, Tilly reaches forwards to grab her hand, pulling her back up. 

‘If we survive, remind me to thank you.’ Robin tells Tilly, catching her breath. 

‘Oh, I will.’ Tilly replies helping Robin up back onto the platform, which proves difficult given what little space they have and the movement of the train. Eventually, they manage sitting almost atop one another and safe. Safer. 

‘Here goes nothing.’ Robin says, now holding the other end of the chain and dropping it onto the line. ‘Brace yourselves.’ 

They do. The three of them, Rumple now ignoring the door, brace for their lives as they wait for either Robin’s plan to have succeeded or for their afterlife. Robin clutches Tilly’s hand tightly, in anticipation for an outcome. 

And as they hear the scraping of metal again metal and wood shattering apart the train slowly slows. A shuddering slow, but one nevertheless. Finally, they breathe again as passengers force their way out of the train to join their three saviours on the platform. Unaware of quite what just happened they stand motionless, waiting for someone to explain. But Robin and Tilly barely need to look at one another before they collapse onto their backs in fits of laughter. Bruises and cuts unable to be felt as the surge of adrenaline hits them. 

‘We survived!’ Tilly cries in laughter. ‘You need to thank me.’ She then tells Robin who snorts with laughter of her own, much to the confusion of all else present, Rumple included.

* * *

It takes less than the day for news to hit Gothel that her plan had failed. News that Drizella battles with herself on how to give, knowing any way to tell the woman would now end well. Through the fits of screaming, and thrown furniture around Drizella’s house, Gothel finally wears herself down to contained anger. ‘We’ll just have to try again then, won’t we?’ she plans through gritted teeth. A plan that Drizella isn’t so sure about. ‘and again, and again, and AGAIN!’ she shouts, ‘until we get it right!’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seems sort of sad ouat is over now... but i'll continue to try to get these chapter up on saturdays the best i can

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading :) Feel free to leave me a comment on what you thought, or not if you don't want to. It's chill. You do you :) 
> 
> Stay excellent.


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